


Moves Like Bodt

by theparanoidwriter



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparanoidwriter/pseuds/theparanoidwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, you've heard of those moves like Jaeger, but what you really want, is those moves like Bodt.</p><p>JeanMarco Middle School Dance au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moves Like Bodt

Jean sat in his chair in the corner. It was only thirty minutes into the dance and he was already done with everybody in the room.  
He had come with a group of friends and they had all left him the moment they entered the auditorium, each chasing after their own. Connie was waved over by Sasha, Eren and Armin had snuck off under the pretense of some technical issue.  
Right. A technical issue. Anybody with eyes could tell that the two were dating, no matter how much they denied it and tried to excuse it all off as just being close friends. Yeah, well, Jaeger, close friends don't kiss. Not on the lips. Not French kiss.  
They were dating and there was no denying that. With those two and Connie gone, Jean was left by himself. He had spotted Mikasa not too far away and made his way over to her, but Annie butted in and said something before leading her off.  
He never would have pegged those two, especially not with HIS Mikasa, but middle school was middle school and things never lasted that long anyway.  
He hadn't even dared to try with Christa, especially not with her freckled girlfriend draped all over her. Jesus Christ, the woman looked like she belonged in high school, and not at a middle school dance.  
But whatever. That scratched the small blonde out of the way, and with Mikasa and Annie paired off, he was left sitting in his seat. Some dark haired girl with twin ponytails asked him to a dance but he slaughtered her feet and despite the smiles she shot him, he knew that she was glad to be rid of it by the time the song had ended. Mina was it? Something like that...  
Who even gave a damn anymore? He slumped back in his seat as he watched the sea of bodies moving before him - some grinding against one another, others just bee bopping around, and some not even dancing to the rhythm of the song that was blaring out of the speakers.  
Then he noticed it - they weren't off rhythm, they were listening to a different song with the headphones that trailed from their ears down to their front pocket.  
Headphones kid shot a smile his way. "I can hear you, you know."  
Fuck.  
Jean stood his ground. "They're playing music loud enough to make your ears bleed, why would you need to bring your own?"  
The kid laughed and walked over towards Jean. As he got closer he noticed, he had a WHOLE LOT of freckles spread across his face and on his hands, probably along his shoulders as well, from what he could see.  
'I wonder how many there are...'  
He started to count but the freckled kid's voice drifted back into his ears. "..so that's why I bring my own headphones."  
He must have had a dazed look on his face because the boy asked, "Jean, were you listening?"  
Jean shivered as the boy's voice slid smoothly into his ear and lingered in his brain. The boy said something again, but Jean found himself caught on the sound of his voice more than the actual words coming out of his mouth.  
"Yeah..yeah...headphones...ear bleeding..freckles...Wait, how do you know my name?" He scowled.  
The boy before him laughed.  
JESUS. MOTHERFUCKING. CHRIST. The things that boy's laugh did to him and he didn't even know his name. But he knew Jean's.  
"We have all the same classes. You probably haven't seen me because I sit closer to the door. Your last name starts with K and mine starts with a B." He extended his hand. "My name is Marco. Marco Bodt."  
Jean awkwardly shook Marco's hand then gasped as the handshake changed into a hug as Marco yanked him into his chest. It was a few seconds, but the moment it was over, he wished it hadn't. Guys didn't hug, not like that. That wasn't a bro hug and they both knew it.  
Red flushed across Marco's freckled face and his hand shot back to scratch at his neck. "My family comes from a long line of huggers."  
Marco scooted a nearby chair over and sat down beside Jean, looking out into the crowd.  
Neither of them said anything, Marco sat there watching the crowd, and Jean sat there watching Marco.  
He watched the way his head dipped and bobbed, watched his lips move along to the lyrics of whatever song he was listening to.  
Marco was in his own world, yet so completely aware of the world around him. It was almost...universal. Like the universe of freckles written across his skin. There was a lot of freckles. How many?? It kept bugging him. He tried counting in his head but he couldn't keep track of which ones he had already counted. Finally, he decided to reach out and pressed his finger against the olive skin.  
They both jumped on contact at the spark that passed between the two. Jean's face flushed and he pulled his hand back. They sat in silence for seven long, awkward seconds before Jean stammered, "I-I'm g-going to go g-get some p-punch."  
He stood up and turned but Marco caught him by the hand and dragged him out onto the dance floor.  
"Marco, I-"  
"I saw earlier; don't worry. This one is simple, the song tells you what to do."  
Marco wouldn't let go of Jean's hand, the smile never leaving his face. Then he puffed out his lower lip in a pout. "Please?"  
Any resolve Jean had melted into a puddle around his feet. He took Marco's side, his nerves growing as others formed lines in front, behind and around them as a song came on.  
"This is something new, the Casper Slide Part 2. Featuring the Platinum band, and this time we're gonna get funky."  
Jean swallowed. What did that mean?  
Marco smiled encouragement at hi.  
"Everybody clap your hands. Clap, clap, clap your hands. Clap, clap, clap your hands."  
Marco and everybody else brought their hands together in a clap each time. That didn't seem too hard.  
On the last clap, he joined in.  
"Alright now, we gonna do the basic step. To the left."  
Everybody stepped to the left and Jean stumbled after them.  
"Take it back now y'all."  
The person in front of Jean almost tripped over Jean as he failed to move back fast enough.  
Fortunately, they caught themselves in time for the next move:  
One hop this time.  
Jean was behind by a few seconds on every step and when everybody began to criss-cross, he tried to skip and catch up but ended up tripping. Marco was right there, catching Jean before he could spill on the floor.  
"You really can't dance, can you?"  
Jean glared down at the floor. "Dancing is for dorks." He ignored the fact that everybody in the auditorium was gathered around, even several of their teachers had joined in, with Hanji dancing alongside Principal Smith and a very disgruntled Vice Principal Levi.  
Marco laughed and helped Jean up onto his feet. They sat down in the chairs and watched the others dancing.  
Although he did put up a good front in talking to Jean, he could see the way Marco's foot tapped against the floor and his shoulders swayed. “You obviously want to go dance, so get your ass off this chair and go!”It came out rude and harsh. Fuck. Way to go Jean.  
“Well if you're so insistent on it,” Marco smiled and cleared away Jean's fears. He rested his hand on Jean's shoulder, gave a light squeeze then walked out onto the dance floor. He put in his earphones, seemed to count in his head then started to dance.  
At first, Jean tried to pick out what song could be playing that Marco was dancing to, but as he shimmied to the left, the jack at the end of the earphones fell out of Marco's pocket.  
Marco didn't seem to notice, he kept dancing though it changed. Every time the wires swung another direction, it was like the rhythm had changed. It changed with his surroundings, almost as if he was dancing to the environment around him, no, he didn't just pay attention to the environment.  
He shimmied and he was the beads draped over Ms. Winston's door, lifting in the breeze and brushing against one another. He glided to the floor like the leaves falling from the trees in the autumn weather. He turned and it was the entire Earth twirling on its axis. He took one step that transcended through time – man's first step on the mood, Columbus' first step on the North American shores, an infant's first step, a dying man's last step. He spread his arms wide before him and embraced everything around him then took a sharp turn to the right, he was the corner of every building, every sharp edge, and when he tossed his head, it was the movement of both prey and predator after hearing a sound. When he sunk to the floor and rose up, slowly and surely, Jean saw cycles – life, the seasons, a day.  
It was mechanical and stiff but animated and free. He could hear and see everybody's stories played out in one twist of his wrist and it caught everybody's attention.  
They stopped from whatever dance was playing and even when the iconic “Soulja Boy” came on, nobody started. They all stood, those at the food stand clenched their cups, eyes open wide as Marco danced with a smile spread across his face.  
The smile shrunk when he noticed all the attention he was getting. He stopped dancing and the entire room protested. “We-were you guys all watching...me?”  
“You dance..”somebody started.  
“Like an angel!”  
“Like a star!”  
“Like the moon!”  
“He was dancing with soul!” others answered.  
Marco flushed bright red at their words then looked up at Jean. “Ah, Jean?”  
He stood right in front of Marco, and he couldn't remember when he'd walked up there. “Marco, you..you weren't dancing to the music, were you?”  
His blush deepened and he scratched at his neck. “No, I...”  
The blush brought out his freckles even more, if that was possible. He still wanted to reach out and count them, they were mapped across his face like...like....”The universe.”  
“and I...What?” Marco asked, head titled to the side.  
“The universe, “ Jean said, “You were dancing along to the universe. It's amazing. You're a-” He stopped himself.  
Marco held his hand on his nape. “I'm what?” His brows furrowed and a spark of curiosity shined in his eyes.  
Jean clicked his tongue and made the tch' sound. “A dork, duh.”  
Marco playfully shoved him then looked around. The crowd had fled the dance floor when a slow song flowed out of the speakers.  
Jean looked around as well; they were the only ones there and there were several eyes watching. Waiting. Anticipating. A few eager eyed individuals clutched their cups, the cups protesting. “Marco-” A strong hand pressed against the small of his back.

“Jean Kirschtein, may I have this dance?”  
“Fuck that, I can't dance.” Jean scowled but he didn't move Marco's hand, heat spreading from the area.  
“Please?”Jean started to protest but Marco continued, “You did sit out the Cha Cha slide.”  
Jean took a step back, his scowl deepened, “If I couldn't handle that, what makes you think I can slow dance?”  
Marco guided him back into his hold again and that damned smile never left his face. “This time you'll be dancing with me.”  
Jean fought to keep the scowl on his face, but Marco was making it impossible. He sighed and placed his hand shakily in Marco's extended one. Everybody was still watching. Some of them were whispering.  
Marco brought Jean close, and pressed his hand against the small of Jean's back again. He leaned forward, breath tickling his ear. “Don't pay attention to them, or your feet, or the air, or the music. Just focus on me, and you'll be fine, alright?”  
He didn't believe it, but how could he say no to that voice that sent chills down his spine even with the heat spreading from his back and now through his ear. Jean nodded, gaze focused on Marco. He meant to just look distantly at him, but the universe written across his skin sucked him in. He looked at the droplets of sweat forming and glistening against his tan skin, the traces of blush still spread across his face, the tufts of hair that just barely stretched and strained behind his ear, eager to be set free. He fixated on the way Marco's earphones would move out with their movement but still came back, almost clinging to Marco.  
He pressed closer into Marco's chest; he breathed in and his lungs filled with a mixture of sweat, fabric softener, flowers, a whole mix of things that was best described as home. He brought his face closer to get more of the comforting smell and with the lull of their movements, rested his head on Marco's shoulder. He had done it, become one with the universe like Marco, but he wasn't aware of it until those big brown eyes glanced down at him.  
The feeling he got when Marco looked down at him, pressed so close against this freckled boy who had such a beautiful connection with everything around him; the feeling he got as he took in all the curves and lines on Marco's face, and the feeling he got when he lifted his hand and placed it on the side of Marco's face and leaned in for a kiss; the feeling he got when their lips met and he melted into Marco as Marco melted into him, it was....

 

Amazing.


End file.
